When the alarm was sounded, the entire fortress stood still. They knew what it meant. A great beast had been sighted in the depths of the caverns, and it was moving towards the fortress. All was panic, all was chaos... Except for the noble dwarves of The Daggers of Greenness. Those six veteran dwarves seized their weapons firmly and, with a grim set to their features, jogged down the stone halls and stairwells of the fortress.
They would meet the forgotten beast at the bottom of the Great Stairwell, which led to the deepest depths of the earth. Standing at the bottom of that mighty construction, not a word was spoken. They peered into the gloom of the cavern, its darkness pierced only by the light of their torches.
Though all were hardened warriors, none were as grizzled or hard-bitten as their commander, Agak Obursibrek, she who was known as The Beastscourge. Dozens of beasts had fallen to the keen blade of her axe, which was made all the more impressive by the fact that her left arm was gone from the shoulder down, taken from her by a vicious cave crocodile two years prior. Her armor shone with a bluish glow: it was constructed of fabled adamantine, that most legendary of metals. She was a grim and fearful sight, standing there in the darkness with great axe in hand.
There was a great shaking in the distance, then, and the sound of heavy footfalls coming closer.
“Be ready.” Was all Agak said. It was all she needed to say.
Logem the Equalizer stepped forward, his own legendary axe held at the ready. It's name was Avaladdor, or 'Lovelydrowns', and its keen edge had slain the mightiest of beasts to threaten the fortress of Trumpethatches. It had tasted of the blood of Setrub Akulshibbi the seven-headed hydra, and he could almost feel it yearning for battle. He and Agak had faced the terrors of the dark together, and it was he who had found her when she lost her hand, dragging her bleeding form up from the depths after her mauling at the hands of the cave crocodile. They trusted each other with their lives.
The crashing footfalls came nearer, and soon the beast came into view.
The dwarves gasped as one, all except Agak.
“A towering humanoid composed of mud...” Muttered Iden the Marksdwarf.
“It has large mandibles and it squirms and fidgets.” Logem muttered.
“Beware it's deadly dust!” Zastush cried, gripping his hammer firmly.
“It's name is Ngogngo Osnog Rusmo.” Agak declared calmly. “And I shall slay it this day.” She hefted her axe in her single, admantine-shod hand and began her charge, her loyal dwarves following close behind.
Ngogngo Osnog Rusmo opened its clacking, mud-formed jaw and let loose a deep, low moan that shook the bones of the world with its volume. As Agak neared her prey, she leaped forward burying her axe deep into the leg of the beast. The mystical qualities of the sacred adamantine caused it to shear effortlessly through the thick mud-flesh of the beast, and the entire leg flew off in an arc, trailing thick brown mud behind it. Ngogngo toppled slowly, nearly crushing Agak with its massive bulk. As it fell it grabbed at her, but she dodged nimbly out of the way, a fierce and fey grin upon her scarred features. Then the other dwarves were upon it, and it seemed as though the battle would end quickly. Iden sent a well-aimed quarrel through the beasts mouth, shattering a mandible and burying a copper quarrel deep inside of its crusted head. It roared in otherworldy pain, although it did not stop its thrashing.
Logem stepped up calmly, prepared to add another legendary notch to Avaladdor's blade. He raised the weapon high in both arms, but just as he began to bring it down, the beast exhaled deeply, spreading a cloud of dust all about it. He inhaled reflexively, and that was his downfall. His limbs were instantly paralyzed, and the legendary weapon Avaladdor fell from his senseless fingers. His lungs seized up, and just before blackness swallowed him, he saw each of his brethren falling in the same manner.
Agak felt her limbs begin to grow stiff and unresponsive as well, but the light of rage powered her forward. She took up Avaladdor from the cavern floor, and raising it high, brought it down on the middle of the beast's torso. It let out a deep and grinding cry as it was completely bisected, its thick, dark mud-blood spilling out of it in splurts and clots.
Agak eyed her kill grimly, as she had done everything else in life. Then her eyes rolled back into her skull, and the paralyzing powder took its toll on her.
Trumpethatchets lost a great hero in that battle, but the end of one chapter was the beginning of another...
“Jared the Fancyman?” The militia captain Zulban asked.
The thin and rock dust-covered dwarf looked up from his work; a beautiful carving of a dwarf bathing in liquid cheese.
“Good news. You're our new commander.” Zulban grinned.
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Topic: The Fall of One Hero, The Rise of Another (Read 611 times)